Mistaken Sin
by baby rose hip
Summary: Bella has always been a shy creature but when she gets insulted by a rouge she decides that she wants revenge. She wants to know sin and passion in his arms. But what happens when Bella realizes that the man that she had just seduced might not have been J
1. Chapter 1

**Don't worry folks; there is A LOT of Edward involved and just as much Rosalie and Emmett. Those two have **their** own make out scene.**

**SUMMERY: **Lady Bella has always been a shy creature but when she gets insulted by a rouge she decides that she wants revenge. She wants to know sin and passion in his arms. But what happens when Bella realizes that the man that she had just seduced might not have been James…?

**NOTE: **Towards the end of the story there will be a section that is completely _italic_. That entire section is the work of _Delanae_. She not only wrote this section for me but also managed to do the major editing for me while writing her own story (though why she hasn't uploaded it yet I have no idea). I also know that some people might not understand why I chose James as the rogue that Bella wants to seduce. The reason is because he's already evil and towards the end it all just falls into place because James already has a lover- Victoria. As well as that, if I continue this story I need a character that hates Edward but wants Bella one way or another.

**This chapter is strictly M rated so be careful if your going to read**.

**WHEN REVIEWING: **Please, if you are to review, do not forget to credit _Delanae_ as well. Without her this would never have been finished. Every couple of days she would edit this whole story for me, add scenes, take them out and make the whole thing better... If there are any mistakes Delanae will happily take care of it^^

I hope you enjoy! B.R.H.

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_In the summer of 1822. _

_Lady Isabella made her way up the grand stairs to the Yorkie Hall for the evening ball that was the opening to the social season. _

_Traditionally she had attended this dreaded ball with her late husband for the past five to six years. More often then not, Lady Isabella had no use for minor outings and grand balls, finding no true purpose for them. However this particular ball was the first she_ _was attending by herself since her husband's death, though the ball was not only the beginning of the new season it was also the ball that one of London's most famous rakes would be attending. James De Vilo, Earl of West Leigh. Though never having met the gossip of all society she had heard hundreds of stories about him and just how well satisfied all his mistresses were, and true enough the rake had a new beauty by his side every other week. _

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In the midst of the Yorkie Ball, the Lady's society had introduced themselves to the Earl of Westleigh. Towards the end of the introduction, the Earls eyes had fallen boringly upon Bella during which time the ladies had scatted off in their own direction. Their introduction had been short, brief and insulting. He had bowed and called her mouse.

"It's a pleasure to meet Mrs. Swan. Though I must say, while a swan is a beautiful and delicate beast, you are a shy creature are you not? A mouse, my Lady Bella." He spoke the words with the slightest jeer.

His disgraceful words had shocked Bella to the core and left her in a state of disbelief at the rudeness and reality of his words. With that he had turned around to face his companion. The French Earl of Di Grace. Laurent.

"_I have no use for whey-faced widows or limp-boned virgins."_

Shocked, Lady Bella Swan recalled the words of James De Vilo, Earl of Westleigh, England's most desired and hottest rake with clarity. A man of power and wealth, The man was at the height of London's power as well as London's society circle.

Unaware of the shock and fury that raged through her body, he chuckled at his friend's witty reply_. _

His words caused a fire of fury to burn through her; all the insults that she had taken over the years were leading up to this point.

No longer would she tolerate them, no longer would she be put dwn and ignored by those around her and all of society.

His words had set the wheels of Fate into motion.

Her revenge…

The insulting words that he had spoken of course referenced by her own slight impact on the notorious rake were not in doubt. Or at least that's what's Bella told herself with cruel precision from long years of practice.

Years of a lonely youth that lingered into her nightmare of a marriage to an older and indifferent man caused her to sting with the all too familiar rejection. Her late husband had teased her with pet names, using them when he wanted to dismiss his quiet wife and return to more important and pressing matters: matters that included his business interests, endless correspondences and fooling around with her maid-servants. Her own bed stank of his debauchery.

Having survived the insults, and the ignorance she had faced through her life and by society, Bella had had enough. And tonight, she was determined to taste the forbidden pleasures whey-faced widows and limp-boned virgins only dreamt of- lust and vengeance.

James _De Vilo_would be hers, and she would show him just what a widow was made of, then leave him wanting and aching- the satisfaction to be hers alone to savor.

She would bring the rake to his knees, and then… she would walk away.

It was a new season and Lord Blacks Grand Costume and Masked Ball was well known for decadent and outrageous delights. No self respecting member of society would ever admit of attending it, which of course meant that those who got an invitation would never dream of missing it. Such depravity and sin was like honey to the wealthy and the pretty.

Bella was amazed at the steadiness of her hand as she handed over her gilded envelope adorned and fastened with red ribbons. The butler accepted it, glancing at its authenticity routinely before he smiled warmly to her; however, her mind was far too deep in thought to acknowledge the gesture. For her, weeks of preparation would accumulate to this one night.

After days of careful study and nights of restless need, the mouse was transformed.

Tonight she would be the Cat. And it was open season on dirty rats.

"Has Merlin arrived?" she asked.

"Yes, madam." the butler responded.

"Could you have one of the servants find him and tell him that his familiar is here?" she ignored the twist of embarrassment in her stomach at her words.

He nodded. "As you wish m'lady,"

Bella smiled wickedly. Oh _yes, the lady wished to teach the sorcerer a new kind of magic._

In black silk and draped velvet, she entered the crowded room. Among costumes of blinding colour and flashes of jewellery, Bella knew she would stand out.

Her costume made a mockery of modesty, a widow's darkest weeds turned into a sensual invitation. Her black velvet mask and cats ears were simple, but the ebony ties that held them on and laced through her hair were deliberately too long, draping over her collarbone, accenting her bare shoulders and the curved flesh above her bodice. Her figure of bold curves was displayed in simple lines, finished with shocking glimpses of red satin beneath the black velvet, drawing the eye down to the flesh of colour that hinted at the shape of her legs and slim ankles through the well placed slits in her skirt.

She had even gone as far as dying her brown hair to jet-black with one crimson streak to match her costume.

Lady Bella was a merry widow.

Madam Clearwater, London's most beautiful and virginal brothel owner's last piece of advice echoed in her head: "_You must feel sexual, invincible. It will emanate from you like heat; the scent of a woman who is ready, accessible and willing. You must feel this power and then draw him to you."_

The women knew what she was talking about, she was a God send. Sent to earth to torture mortal men. Now she was passing on her deadly and sinful secrets.

From the corner of her eye, Bella saw the butler disappearing into the crowd looking for her naughty Merlin.

She circled the hall, while avoiding small talk and ignoring the subtle bids for her attention from some of the bolder male guests. With every silky step that she took she felt a well of electricity start to pool between her legs. Several anxious minutes passed, and her confidence began to falter. She'd confirmed the layout of the house and even where the tryst would take place but… what if her information about his costume was incorrect? What if he wasn't even there? What if-

"You should be more careful," His voice came from behind her; the deep, masculine growl sent a delicious chill across her skin. "I thought familiars were supposed to stay close to their masters."

She turned to face him.

James De Vilo, Earl of Westleigh.

"Ah, but then I _am_ close, am I not?" He was taller the she remembered, but fear could colour ones perception, and even as a cat, she knew the game would take many turns. He was masked, with his hair pulled back and powdered silver to match the grey silks of his beaded overcoat. He was a strikingly handsome Merlin, and she made no effort to hide her appraisal, measuring him from head to toe as if James Clay was already hers.

At last, her eyes met the glittering heat of his through the barriers of mask and costume, and she felt the first hint of victory. _Mine._

He watched her, fascinated by the opening challenge in her eyes. Who was this woman who presented herself, a sensual offering from a God he couldn't remember praying too?

"You could not be close enough for complaint, my dear familiar," He countered softly, trying to recall that, no matter who she was, the rules of "polite engagement" would still apply.

She took a step closer, her face tilting up to look at him, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. She was a magnificent panther, and his hands itched to stroke every sleek line of her body.

"No? Let us see then, Sorcerer, how close a woman can get before you… complain."

With that she moved past him, glancing back over her shoulder, daring him to follow, as she sauntered toward a private corridor, away from the lights of the party.

He followed without hesitation, dismissing any rational thought or care.

He watched the hypnotic sway of her hips as his "cat" led him into the shadows of his hosts' hallway.

He anticipated being led into one of the house's many bedrooms, but she held out her hand and drew him into an alcove hidden by heavy velvet drapes. Moonlight through the windows cast them both in shades of purest white.

He noted that their small, secret hideaway appeared to have a cushioned window seat wide enough to accommodate a tryst. How tempting.

He drew the drapes and turned, reassessing this creature in velvet and silk, her skin like cream, inviting him to drink and her chin angled with pure bravado. But instinct whispered that she was no courtesan, no jaded prostitute. In the light of the moon, he reveled in the details of his "seductress" as she bit her lower lip and seemed to struggle over what to do; her trembling hands conveyed inexperience. Her eyes caught the direction of his gaze, and she tried to hide her hands in her skirts. He caught them effortlessly, intent on uncovering the mystery that pulsed with raw need behind her mask.

Her hands were soft- her fingers long and tapered; her nails, buffed smooth. They were the hands of a lady fluttering for escape, betraying her nervousness. No, this was no practiced whore, or even, he suspected, a wanton creature that had lost track of the lover's beds she had visited.

She was something else entirely. But exactly what he could not say.

"How shall I please you then, Master?" She purred, drawing his attention for her hands, forcing herself to face him in the cool confined world of velvet and stone they would share for as long as the game lasted.

"Shall I tell you how?"

"Yes."

"And show you how?"

She swallowed, her heart skipping at the unbidden images the question evoked. After hours in Madam Jules' parlor discussing the finer points of seducing a rogue, the time for talk was over. Bella wondered how she could ever have had come to this place, could ever have conceived anything so foolish, so laughable. But then he pulled her into his arms and his mouth was on hers, tasting, teasing, consuming.

She clung to the rugged heat of his chest and arms, feasting on the sensual fire of his kisses, devouring the raw pleasure and gasping in shock at just the first taste, that she may have underestimated her own need.

Her own hunger.

He stroked the velvet of her dress with one hand. Finding the top of her bodice, his fingers dipped beneath the material to catch the peak of one nipple and free her breast from its confines. Bella threw her head back, surprised at the streak of electricity that followed from the touch of his hand on her breast, through to the throbbing ache from between her legs.

God, she wanted his mouth there…everywhere.

"Who are you, Cat?"

She shook her head, fighting her need and the impulse to tell him anything… everything and anything he asked if only he would put his mouth against the sensitive coral tip of her breast.

"Please…" The ragged whisper tore past her lips.

His mouth traced down the line of her jaw, guided by her desire. He gently took advantage of her exposed throat and followed her pulse to her collarbone. He travelled slowly, torturously, down to her breast to capture with his lips the impertinent peak that jutted into his fingers.

He rolled his tongue around the flushed, taunt flesh, mirroring the movement with his hand on her other breast, and grazed her with his teeth; nipping at the sensitive tip. She arched her back, her breathing coming out faster as he tried to teach his familiar about pleasure.

Her own and his.

He tasted her breast, suckling her, drawing from her as if she were life and pleasure embodied. Her soft sighs and whimpers spun then heat and tension in him out of his control. He reached down to draw a hand along the outer line of her thigh, lifting one of her legs up around his waist and shifting back to press through the layers of her skirts. He worked his arousal against the damp core between her thighs. She bucked against him, and his lips released her breast as the eager, unpracticed message of her movements nearly undid him.

He took one of her hands- clutching desperately to the lapels of his coat- and slowly loosened her grip. His tongue flicked along each fingertip, just as it had lingered on her breast, teasing each sensitive pad and suckling each indent between fingers until he felt a small measure of control.

"I… I want to touch you." Her whisper ended his strategy in one swift intake of breath. The cat's eyes glittered in the moonlight, and he accepted a new definition for the word _surrender_.

"Then touch me."

He offered no assistance, beyond freeing the hand he had just worshiped with his mouth. A hand that now memorized the landscape of muscle and bone beneath the smooth folds of his shirt as she relentlessly sought her prize.

She prayed that he wouldn't notice her trembling fingertips but forgot the concern when her touch encountered the unmistakable length of him, the straining power of his need against the buttons of his trousers.

Bella dropped her eyes from his, captivated by the sight of her hands shamelessly caressing and stroking him through the cloth.

_Who's hands where so bold? Is this me doing this? Aching to touch him more? To have all of him?_

The power of the questions made her giddy and without the need for any more urging, she freed him from his pants. The buttons gave way easily. The stark light and shadows revealed his erection in all its beauty. Bella smiled at the sight. She was surprised at the length and girth, for he was so much larger then her late husband.

She ran her fingers along the silken skin, teasing then gripping, stroking his flesh, making his breathing change. The heat of him burned her as she reveled in the hardness and the way his flesh jerked against her palms, swelling and beckoning for more of her touch, more of her attention.

Suddenly she wanted more too.

Madam Clearwater had said there was one way to enslave a man, to drive him wild, but Bella had dismissed that portion of the lecture, as completely beyond the pale. Now though- now all she wanted to do was to taste him, to drink in the power of his flesh and to know what it would be like to have that swollen ripe head of him against her tongue and in her mouth.

Bella knelt down, her skirts fanning out around her.

"It's so beautiful," She murmured and then she kissed him, slowly draining one ivory pearl of moisture from the swollen tip and drinking in the sweet musk and salt before her mouth opened to enclose him.

He bit back a groan at the sensation: the sight of her on her knees, the unexpected brush of her breath on his erection; her whispered exclamation at his beauty.

God, he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep from exploding. Her lips, her mouth, her tongue so inexperienced, but, God, as she cupped her fingers around him- the pressure exquisite and the enthusiasm of her kisses delicious- it made his thighs quiver. She enclosed her mouth over him again and pulled him slowly into it, the tip of her tongue flicking back and forth across the sensitive juncture of the tip of his shaft.

His fingers tangled in her hair, his jaw clenched, hard- determined to make it last.

_Turn-about is fair play kitten_. He thought as he lifted her to her feet. Kissing her deeply, he used his tongue and teeth to seize control- her breath mingling with his until she sagged against him with a sigh.

He held her upright while he reached down to cup the soft curve of her bottom, stepping forward until the backs of her knees met the window seat.

Gently, he set her down on the cushions, holding her so that she was balanced on the edge of the bench, and knelt facing her.

His hands spread her thighs and reached to her ankles to push up the sensual barrier of her petticoats. The material traveled over her knees and brushed along black stockings secured by saucy red ribbons, revealing that his cat was a bold creature after all.

For above her stockings, the revealing line of black and crimson cloth showed that she wore nothing at all.

Moist and glistening curls above her lush and ripe succulent lips betokened to him.

"W-what are you d-doing?"

He grinned.

Her naïve and breathless question made him wonder again at the mystery of a woman who would dress so provocatively.

No undergarments but silk stockings and ribbons, yet trembling like an untried virgin at the prospect of his most intimate kisses.

"I thought that we were going to find out how close a Sorcerer could get to a woman before he 'complained'?"

"Oh,"

There was almost no sound behind her response as he deliberately held his mouth above her, the air from his words the first feather touch against the wet skin.

"But if your shy," he intoned softly, "let us see what we can do."

His hands caught at one of the layers of her red silk and trailed the light material back over her, covering her with the thin illusion of a barrier against his touch. And then he lowered his mouth against the cloth and demonstrated how a Sorcerer uses an illusion to achieve his desired ends.

His tongue traced the outline of her moist folds, the red silk wet within seconds from his mouth, from the liquid of her need; her body so slick, so ready to take him. But for now, there was only the tantalizing pressure of his tongue through her petticoat; heat and pressure, even the alternate cold and heat of his breath, all played against the silk. Bella gripped the pillows, fighting and reveling in it all at once. To be touched there and not entirely touched.

It was maddening.

"Are you shy?" He whispered against her, his tongue flicking over the tight bud of her clitoris.

Bella had to bite the palm of her hand to keep from crying out at the sensation.

_The old Bella was shy...the old Bella would never spread her legs...would never pull them open so far that her muscles ached to give a man the access he wanted...she would never beg for him to penetrate her...to remove the damn silk...Ah, but tonight was different..._

"I-I'm not shy," she managed to say through clenched teeth, her hips riding up to maintain the contact.

The reward came quickly, as the wet cloth was dragged back across her skin, making her gasp when air struck the exposed and tender flesh. He blew a cool breath at the trailing edge of the silk as he removed it. And then his touch ignited her, the reality of his mouth, his tongue, his teeth against her -- with nothing to keep him from tasting her fully, from exploring the contours and textures of her sex.

Bella writhed against the cushions as she felt one of his fingers penetrate even as his tongue began to dance over her clitoris, a gentle and feathery flickering that contrasted with the increasing pressure and strength of his moving finger.

A delicious tension, a red-hot coil, began to mount, and she gripped his head, her hands pulled at his hair, instinctively seeking more.

More of the pressure.

More of the damn teasing.

He added a second finger, stretching her. Pain and pleasure made her eyes fly open as the relentless dance of his tongue continued. Finally, the coil exploded.

She bucked at the wave of ecstasy, shuddering as her muscles clenched against the fingers still pushing into her.

Bella cried out as the wave seemed to gather momentum. She arched her back with the ebb and flow, and he pulled his mouth away and drew himself up to kiss her -- his fingers still penetrating and withdrawing -- as she came.

She could taste herself on his tongue, and the thought tugged at the coil of her release, the start of another cascade of explosions.

He pulled his hand away, and Bella groaned at the searing heat of his erection against her still shuddering flesh.

She was still coming as he spread her legs wider and positioned himself to drive into her. Bella felt a small lash of fear at the reality of his daunting size against her.

She had a fleeting thought that her body couldn't possibly accommodate him.

"W-wait..."

She tried to catch her breath, to wriggle away but his hand held her hip, trapping her. He took his other hand and caressed her with his own swollen tip, and her body reacted, another tremor jerking her hips up and around him, and Bella knew she wanted it.

She suddenly wanted to claw him for more. Even if he rent her in two, she would have it all.

"Say yes," he commanded, pressing into her.

"Yes." His eyes held hers, her body tightening around the head of him, aching at the new presence, the first hint of the invasion that would come, writhing to escape even while a deeper drive made her hips quiver, tilting upward to try to take in all of him.

He stopped, just barely inside her, and she could feel him trembling with the effort to hold still.

"Say yes," he commanded her again.

"Yes." And she was rewarded with just another inch, just one more thick, glorious inch of him, and he watched the realization come to her. Even as his body was held in a position to conquer, he yielded control to her to surrender completely and take him, or even then, she had the power to refuse him.

So he asked, his voice rough "Yes?"

"Yes! Oh, yes, yes, yes!"

He plunged into her, driving himself in completely.

Then slowly he began to move, his jaw clenching at the molten heat and friction of her body, so tight -- the slick passage of a virgin, but no...She wrapped her legs around his waist, her ankles urging him to take her -- deeper, faster, harder.

His cat was no virgin. She countered his every move, drawing against him, pulling him in, crying for him to pound the innermost core of her body, and he wanted it to last. He wanted to make the magic last, the enchantment of her scent and the feel of her beneath him, her hips rocking him, her muscles contracting and milking him, draining him.

"Oh!" Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, "I-It's happening...a-again!"

Her innocent shock at her ability to climax again stripped away his last illusion of control. By God, he wanted her to scream with it. He wanted to be the one to teach her that she could come again and again -- until the lines between pleasure and pain were no more.

He would take her until there were no illusions between them, nothing but the sustenance of need. And then he couldn't hold it back any longer, a scalding orgasm tearing from him, jetting into her as he ground against her sensitive clit and felt the unmistakable grip and spasms of her answering climax.

"Oh-oh… oh my!" The cats faint note of nativity forced the Earl to duck his head in her beasts as a wide smile spread his face… the cat … his cat sure had her charms.

The game had definitely taken a turn, but even so, Bella's return to reality was slowed by the sweet ripples of her climax, the ache and burning between her legs setting off another wave of desire when he shifted slightly, withdrawing his still firm length a fraction of an inch to take his full weight off her.

A whimper of protest escaped her throat, her legs tightening to hold him captive. He kissed her throat and nuzzled her, apparently unwilling to beg for mercy.

"Are you keeping me, then?" He teased, and she tensed, all too aware that he was not hers to keep, that it was time for the cat to free her prey.

She pushed against him, shuddering at the sensation of loss, the ache between her legs, her flesh throbbing with hunger even now.

She turned her face away, seeking composure, repeating silently over and over that victory is in the having, and that, at the very least, she would have the memory of the cat to keep her warm on the cold nights to come.

The trembling in her thin hands was the only sign of her turmoil.

"Tell me who you are," He said softly.

She stepped back with an odd smile on her delicate lips.

"I should thank you. I didn't know it could be so… wonderful." She said quietly.

"This isn't amusing," He said more loudly. "I must know your name. I must see you again,"

Her chin came up defiantly; behind her the velvet mask, her eyes shone with unshed tears.

"You will but you won't look twice. Let's just say that the next time that you cut me in public, I'll have the pleasure of remembering this night and knowing that this is one whey-faced widow who is grateful to have had the honour of your attentions"

Taking a deep, unsteady breath and squaring her shoulders, she transformed herself into a woman that he could not touch, a woman who would never allow a man liberty such as forbidden caresses.

"Good evening sir and good-bye,"

Before he could protest, she slipped through the curtains and was gone.

_Whey-faced… widow? _He asked himself. _What the hell was she talking about?_

The next time he cut her?

After eight years of self-imposed exile, he returned to England only two weeks ago.

Edward Cullen, the Duke of Merryburth, found himself alone in the alcove, the scent of her clinging to his skin and clothes. He pulled a hand through his bronze hair and tried to absorb the meaning of her parting words. He was a man who was used to getting what he wanted- and he'd be damned if he knew what just happened, but she'd not escape him this easily.

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As Bella quickly hurried down the corridor, unbalanced as ever, this time from the very unfamiliar but delightful ache from between her legs, she panted as she re visited the events that surged through her mind…. So that's what all the entire fuss was about….

She didn't... She hadn't ever…. She didn't know... She had no idea that she was capable of doing that… of climaxing, (and so strongly) in the hands of James De Vilo ….

She stopped suddenly. A noise catching her interest… after a second she realized what the sound was…

…and she thought she was loud!

Bella blushed at the thought but retraced her steps until she found a small hallway that led to the western part of the house. She followed the sounds of screams of delight from a woman.

A woman who begged for more, who begged to be taken harder and faster…

She heard the satisfied grunts of a man obviously enjoying himself.

The two lovers we clearly oblivious to the rest of the world

Oblivious to everyone but themselves and their pleasure.

She had a sneaking suspicion who they were, for this clearly wasn't the first time that they were caught in public- rough fucking.

She peeked through the open door, and gasped.

_The heat and passion filling the room hit her like a wave that made her knees weak and her face flame bright red at the obvious stench of sex and arousal that radiated and pulsed through her body. The inside of the room was dimly lit; the faint glow of scattered candles played against the dark maroon walls and cast an amber light on the couple ravishing each other not five feet from where she stood. Their clothes lay shredded and useless on the ground. _

_A blonde beauty, so exquisite that Bella felt a physical blow to her self-esteem just from watching as the woman's face screwed up in obvious pleasure, screamed and gasped sharply. Her full, red lips were swollen from her lover's kisses and fell into a perfect 'O' of gratification. Her eyes were heavy lidded and narrowed roguishly as she ran her hands greedily up and down the man's back. _

_Bella recognized her as Rosalie, a woman famed for her looks, and then knew, without a doubt, that the man was Emmett. They were, almost literally, glued to the pelvis and were sometimes unwelcome at 'normal' gatherings and party's as their antics were inappropriate for pleasant company. _

_Rosalie was sitting atop a dresser, her legs spread as far as possible, her ankles locked around Emmett's tapered waist as he thrust, hard, into her, causing the dresser to crash back against the wall and her shrill cry to echo around the walls. She still had her red leather stiletto high heels on and her black, barely-there panties hung from one heel. _

_His large hands gripped her hips, pulling her to him as he surged forward with each thrust. Sweat created a fine sheen across his back, emphasizing his muscles that rippled and bunched as he moved. Rosalie's perfectly manicured fingernails clawed at his skin as she gasped and begged for more. Emmett growled and groaned in return and Bella couldn't help but feel turned on by his masculine noises, bringing up memories of her own previous 'activities'._

"_Harder, Em…. Oh god, yes, yes, faster!…" Rosalie cried, her head thrown back as her body shuddered in pleasure at his increased pressure and speed. The wall cracked slightly as the dresser continued to batter up against it. _

_Emmett lavished wet, open-mouthed kisses to Rosalie's breasts and one of her hands grasped the back of his head, holding him there as her moans increased in volume and intensity. Emmett's hand disappeared down the front of Rosalie's writhing body and her answering screams violently woke Bella from her stunned reverie. _

She took a deep breath and turned on her heel; fleeing as she felt both disgust and arousal.

Well clearly tonight was a night of surprises… and sexual desires…

And boy were Emmett and Rosalie enjoying themselves... all she need now was to see was Alice pleasuring her man Jasper… the little lover wouldn't be able to help herself as she just got a new erotic romance book and she had seen everything.

The sounds of gossip in the partying horde of courtiers and the wealthy could be heard from a mile away, always easily able to distinguish the voices, no matter how unwelcome. The pitch in which the rats of society spoke was a hum of disloyalty and intrigue.

Just as Bella turned the corner into the great hall she knew that society had something to say as the fevered babble swarmed over the newest hint of scandal…

What? She had no idea. Bella rarely ever kept up to date with society's gossip.

But as she walked slowly into the hall, she moved into the shadows from societies eyes; there she was able to hide from the new material as she heard the loud, excited whispers.

…A high ranking member of society was last seen in between the legs of a glorious feline… a glorious redhead.

Bella had no idea… through her years in society she never lingered in gossip and tonight was no different. She had no interest in who the high member of society was fucking Victoria.

As the cat walked towards the back of the house to the overpriced and lush gardens, she walked quickly and steadily as she could feel men's eyes following her every move.

The sway of her hips…. The puckered up flesh of her breast…

She had gone red in the face underneath the mask, and was desperately seeking the coolness of the cold air…. And it came soon enough.

Just as she walked into the back yard, she felt a sudden coolness that flooded through her body and cooled her soul but did nothing to cool the moist heat that pooled in between her legs… if anything… it was growing wetter as she thought of her pleasure in the arms of a single man and the actions of London's most scandalous and sexiest couple.

As Bella stood still, she absorbed the sounds of the night, the quite rustle of the trees, the music and gossip from inside and the soft moans not far off of someone been well pleasured…

Bella started forward and receded down the steps; she turned to the left and made her way slowly to the high hedged walls, trying to calm her jittering body and buzzing mind.

She reached the first wall and turned to find a whore's mask lying lamely on the ground, right next to it a man's pure white cravat.

She continued down the fence, growing more aware of the sounds that she heard, and she knew what they were, for not only she had heard those minutes before but was the one who made them as well.

Bella peeked around the corner and froze as her blood tuned ice cold as the picture before her unfolded.

There on a stone white bench lay a well fucked Victoria; her wild hair was loose and splayed all over the place. Long tendrils fell to the ground and more were freeing themselves from her whore's hairstyle from the force of a man's thrusts. Her corset was ripped open and discarded somewhere for it wasn't anywhere in her line of sight.

The redhead gave a long moan as the man tilted her hips to take her deeper, their belly's were glued as one as he trust into her, Bella new that the redhead would be bruised tomorrow. Victoria was unmistakably close to the edge and Bella was forced to see yet another couple ravishing themselves in front of her.

An icy chill froze Bella to the bone as the moon shifted and in the process revealed the beast who fucked Victoria senseless.

There, on top of Victoria, dressed in luscious green, his brown hair stuck to his neck from sweat, was James. A look of complete and utter concentration marked his expression as he fucked her while one hand firmly grasped her right hip and the other one pinched and rolled her bullet hard nipples till she cried out in pain.

At the fury of his strokes, the wanton screamed while she clawed at his rigid bottom as she came. James pulled himself up slightly and roughly grabbed her hands and in one move wrenched them above her head while still taking her deeper and harder, while pulling her top body tighter and tighter. His whole body taunt as he prepared to come.

There was indeed a certain high amount of important members of society enjoying themselves tonight, what a shame Bella had to walk in on all of them.

Bella stared and came to her senses as she felt bile rise in her throat. That was James… and she knew without a doubt it was him. She would recognize that man anywhere. Except apparently when she's supposed to be screwing him.

She turned and ran, she ran as fast as she could back to her carriage but not before she heard the scream of Victoria's hard release and James's primal roar. Apparently the scandalous Victoria was making a regular appearance on his arm and in his bed

All the while heat flooding her cheeks and she stumbled into her carriage…

Pain, embarrassment, shame, anger, hatred, pleasure and feelings she had no name for coursed through her body. She couldn't believe how stupid she had been… to assume… to dress up…

And all to the wrong man!

She hurried to her carriage, while try to fight back tears at her own stupidity. As the carriage began to move, she felt something prickle her skin. She absent-mindedly glanced up to the eastern side of the mansion and gasped.

There, on one of the many balconies, stood the very man himself. He stood in his Merlin robes, leaning against the railing, staring straight at her. His masked removed and even though the house was brightly lit up with lights, she didn't recognize his green stare.

The green eyes that bore right into her and pierced her very heart and soul…

His gaze pierced her body, freezing her to the spot as she stared at him…

His gaze like her own, unwavering…

Just his eyes, his familiar body, his stance and face were enough for senses to flood her body. Dampness pooled in between her legs and, so suddenly, she felt herself blush. Deep scarlet.

He didn't miss a thing, for he smiled an insanely delicious crooked smile which had her heart skipping a beat. Bella had a sneaking suspicion that the smile was meant to entice as well as tease.

His eyes never left the cat even as the carriage lurched forward and onto the iron gates…

_**Hey Hey Hey!! Its Delanae in the house, give me some lurve!! If there are any spelling mistakes here then it is my fault as B.R.H's beta, ergo any corrections can come to me. I very much enjoyed helping B.R.H with this story, though I should probably continue writing mine now… Anyways, I will, graciously, accept the credit for the Rosalie and Emmett scene as well as a few other sentences that B.R.H decided to keep (WOOOOOOO!), but the idea was all hers and we must all bow down to her and her brilliance (PARTY!) **_

_**Ummm… that's about it… Oh, um, Tia much love mwah mwah mwah. Miss you but don't miss me too much :P I don't wanna see you sad **__****__** I'm a good bottler, so consider my emotions bottled.**_

_**Jasper Lover 4 Life :P**_

_**Peace. Love Delanae. Aka -Rathbone-Hale-Strait-Statham-Ackles-Franco-Cullen-Crawford-Boreanaz**_

_**Ta-da! Zing………………!**_


	2. AUTHORS NOTE

Hi folks! I am currently halfway through Mistaken Sin and I've got a couple of tricks up my sleeve^^

Anyway I would like to thank you all for faving and all that. However I would like to get an idea of where you would like this story to lead and what you expect to happen between our two main characters: Bella and Edward.

I've got a saucy plot planned out but me and my Better think it should be changed a bit, that's why a note or message from you guys would be appreciated.

**What you think will happen**

**What you don't want to happen**

**What you would like to see happen**

**And pretty much anything else.**

Thanks for your time folks! And Im really sorry if you though this was a chapter! I promise there will be one very soon!


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